Masculine Bonds Develop One Way, Women's Friendships Another. Is It Time to Halt Efforts to Turn Men Into Women?
It is good to talk. That's what men are repeatedly instructed, by everyone from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. They remain perplexed by the typical male propensity to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the significant events in each other's lives. What could they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they inquired how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?
For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an deep and detailed understanding of each other's private feelings, this style of male closeness—built on apparently sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that over a quarter of British men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor until in dire straits; that male suicide rates repeatedly exceed female ones; and that many middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.
Reconsidering the Value of Silent Companionship
Yet, as per researcher Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a historic steam railway in northern England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these predominantly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men raised in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"doing things together, often in comfortable silence"—may be underrated.
This quiet model of friendship "is not deficient or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow states.
Granted, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: simply due to the fact that it's not your preferred version of friendship doesn't imply it lacks value. Perhaps we should let these men in peace with their trains, golf, or vintage auto projects—whichever pursuit allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also appreciate less talk.
Past Verbal Expression: The Unspoken Dialect of Care
Thankfully, Yarrow is clearly not arguing that expressing emotion is harmful, nor calling for a return to the past. Instead, he highlights that emotionally expressive talk is not for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the exterior of apparently reserved friendships. Is he right?
As a female viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male conversation. But professional observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to open up personal matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling altogether.
Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at articulating feelings, traditional men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand soft emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, discontent, or pride for hours.
What is notable about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, for all their horror of discussing feelings, they nonetheless managed to express what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. However, as the professor records, they deliberately didn't probe direct questions. Instead, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be subtly supportive while keeping normality. They were caring for each other much as female friends would, but without ever naming the elephant in the room.
The Essential Issue: Does Bonding Need Words?
This is not the preferred method of connecting, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—what that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone is there enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that invariably be put into words?
This discussion persists. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that different styles of friendship carry equal worth, respectively meeting the emotional needs of different individuals in their own effective way.
